


we need you

by allmywill



Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran, The Power Station (Supergroup)
Genre: 30 Day Duran Duran Fic Challenge, 30 Days of Writing, Accidental Kissing, Awkward Crush, Banter, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, COVID19, Character Study, Cocaine, Confessions, Conversations, Couch Cuddles, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Divorce, Dreams, Drug Addiction, Emotions, Established Relationship, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Fivesome, Flashbacks, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gentle Sex, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Hair Dyeing, Hand Jobs, Height Differences, Height Kink, Holding Hands, Horny Teenagers, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Jealousy, Laughter, Leather, Literal Sleeping Together, Love, M/M, Makeup, Making Love, Memories, Messy, Mood Swings, Old Friends, Paris (City), Phone Calls & Telephones, Pining, Possessive Sex, Pre-Slash, Reminiscing, Riding, Scrapbooks, Softcore Porn, Song Lyrics, Soulmates, Stage Gay, Storms, Teasing, Tension, Threesome, Vignette, Zombies, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 15,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: A Duran Duran fic every day in the month of April, of varying lengths, pairings, and ratings. There’s sure to be something for everyone!
Relationships: Andy Taylor/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Andy Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), John Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), John Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)/Andy Taylor, Nick Rhodes & John Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/Andy Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Andy Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes, Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes/Andy Taylor/John Taylor/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran), Warren Cuccurullo/Nick Rhodes
Comments: 108
Kudos: 46





	1. introduction

Welcome! This is a list I created, because I know things have been hard for everyone everywhere right now. I know I’ve been struggling. Sometimes, the best thing to do during a time like this is read (and write) fiction. It’s my favorite kind of escapism. It has healed me so many times.

So I hope you enjoy a month’s worth of Duran! If you’re a writer, feel free to join in. If you do, let me know. I’d love to read your work! I made these prompts so they can be written clean, dirty, a mix; whatever you’d prefer. Mine will vary and I’ll indicate the rating at the beginning of each chapter.

**Day 1** : Your favorite pairing

**Day 2** : The early days

**Day 3** : (based on) Your favorite song

**Day 4** : Onstage antics

**Day 5** : Nigel becoming John

**Day 6** : Rio era

**Day 7** : Nick and makeup

**Day 8** : Cuddling after a show

**Day 9** : Dyeing each other’s hair

**Day 10** : Getting jealous

**Day 11** : Seven and the Ragged Tiger era

**Day 12** : Rare pairing

**Day 13** : Banter/Laughing together

**Day 14** : Arcadia

**Day 15** : Power Station

**Day 16** : Dialogue only

**Day 17** : Missing each other

**Day 18** : ‘The Crucial Three’

**Day 19** : Crazy fans

**Day 20** : (based on) Your favorite music video

**Day 21** : Big Thing era

**Day 22** : A hug from Simon

**Day 23** : Wedding Album era

**Day 24** : Accidental kiss

**Day 25** : Hurt/Comfort

**Day 26** : Fab Five reuniting

**Day 27** : In the studio

**Day 28** : Present day Duran

**Day 29** : Reminiscing together

**Day 30** : Your choice

_Time will see we're not searching for a wild excuse  
To put emotions back on hold  
Too much has gone down, we know what you're doing  
But do you feel the same way?_

— _We Need You_ , flip side of Skin Trade, 1987


	2. [1] like an angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: Favorite pairing
> 
> Simon/Nick
> 
> Rating: G

_1987_

Simon awakes as the first ray of sun leaks through the window. He stays as still as he can, trying not to wake Nick. He has an arm slung over him, kept him close all through the night as they slept.

He watches his sleeping form, how peaceful he looks as his chest rises and falls. Simon’s heart swells at the sight of him. Whether he’s awake or sound asleep, he has the same effect on him.

He knows how much he hates being woken up early, so when he brushes a few strands of blonde hair out of his face, he’s extra careful. His lashes flutter slightly and he shifts. Simon thinks he’s going to wake up, but he doesn’t appear to. He only leans further into him, closer to his chest now.

Simon feels lucky to be able to see him like this, so natural and real. There are no walls between them. There’s no makeup, no personas, no flashing cameras. Just their authentic selves remain. The moment is one of tranquility, of simplicity. They don’t get much of that elsewhere.

At home, in bed together, in each other’s arms: that is where all else comes to a halt. Everything else is put on hold, only their naked souls left. 

Nick shifts again, stirring lightly. A sunbeam meets Simon’s baby blues, slipping through a crack in the curtains. He can’t wait for the day ahead. Any time he has to spend with Nick, and Nick alone, is sacred.

Simon swears he sees a faint smile on his face. Though the action might wake him, he pulls his body closer, so he’s almost flush to his chest. Running a hand down his bare back, he sighs happily.

He feels a soft hand in his pec, splayed fingers indicating that Nick is waking up. Simon looks down and is met with a pair of bleary green eyes, smiling when they meet his in the gentle light of morning. He’s like an angel; he’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen.

“Good morning.” Simon runs his fingers through Nick’s hair, wild without an ounce of product in it.

A smile spreads across Nick’s face. “Morning,” comes his raspy voice. “How long have you been awake, staring at me?”

“A couple minutes. Did I wake you? Pull you from a good dream?”

Nick leans into his touch, exhaling long and slow. He rests his head on his clavicle. “Think you did. You and your fixation with touching my hair.”

Simon ruffles his hair one more time before pulling his hand away, for good measure. “Can’t help it.” 

“It’s cute. Just not when I’m sleeping.”

“ _You’re_ cute when you’re sleeping.”

Nick moves up in his arms for a kiss, their mouths meeting chastely. “One of these days, I’ll wake up before you and watch _you_ sleep. See how you like it.”

“Doubt it. You love sleeping in too much.”

“But I love you more, Charlie.”

Simon rolls his eyes. The hand on Nick’s back rises back up and presses between his shoulder blades. His body is so familiar, every curve and mark committed to his memory, learned after years of loving one another.

“That’s good to know. I love you more than sleeping, too.”


	3. [2] train of thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: The early days
> 
> John/Roger
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you’re loving this as much as i am, this is fun!

_1980_

Roger and John’s eyes lock as their rhythm syncs up, a solid groove filling the studio. It’s become so natural to them over the past few months.

They have a good thing going. John doesn’t want to ruin it.

But he also notices how his eyes drift to his lips, wondering how they’d feel on his own. Then his muscles catch his glance, the definition there calling to him. He realizes how deep he’s in this, his attraction, and it’s too late to go back now.

Their good thing could be a better thing.

John’s getting ideas. He’s hoping Roger is too. Judging by the look on his face as he plays, maybe they’re on the same train of thought, heading in the direction John has wanted them to go ever since they met.

With a smile bright enough to charm anyone and everyone, Roger winks at him.

John blushes wildly, looking down at his bass strings. He can play at this game and he will. He starts to sway, rocking with his instrument and really feeling the music, feeling their connection in the air. When he looks back up, Roger is smirking and licking his lips.

This is definitely the start of something great.


	4. [3] someone else not me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Favorite song
> 
> Nick/John (past)
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weird favorite, i know. it’s always been hard to choose though! sometimes i’m feeling this song more than others, but it’s always there, in my mind. i first listened to it during a hard time in my life, a time when i had never felt more alone and terrified.
> 
> it was last July. i was falling apart. this came on and i just stopped everything. i knew it would save me, and it did. so many times. looking back now, i’m so grateful Duran came into my life when they did, when i needed them the most. i connected with this band in such a deep, personal way. and i have never felt more at home in any other fandom before.
> 
> dedicated to a beautiful song from a forgotten album: _Someone Else Not Me _, from 2000’s _Pop Trash _.____

_1999_

When Nick hears the song for the first time, he is curled up in bed alone. The burned copy Simon gave him is playing on the stereo, turned up loud, but not loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

His mind drifts to John all on its own. The lyrics cut deep, offsetting the beautiful melody that flows through the room. Damn memories. Always creeping up at the worst times, always causing some kind of trouble in his head.

_ Now while the beat is slow _

_ Here in your arms I sway _

_ Now that the light is low, _

_ something I want to say _

And in his head, they’re young. John still goes by Nigel. They’re dancing to Roxy Music in his bedroom, the future and all its promises stretched before them. Life in the now feels eternal. The poignant _Sea Breezes_ washes over them, crashing waves setting a mood between them. They stop and stare at each other.

Then they’re joining hands and they start to sway together, on the edge of something romantic, something much more than friendship. A connection like no other, they let it strengthen. They blossom, vulnerable and young, emotional and naive. The world could be theirs.

_ I guess you've known it for a while _

_ That I mean trouble _

_ I only want to see you smile _

_ And I burst this bubble _

_ The hardest thing _

_ Is to let go _

In his head, the years pass. He and John stop dancing to Roxy Music in their bedrooms. Instead, they take the stage together. They write their own songs. They taste success. It takes a couple years, but that success starts to ruin John. Nick notices; it hurts and he can’t do much of anything about it.

John loses himself in drugs, parties, and women. Nick watches his hold on control, once so secure, start to slip. His grip loosens. He lets go.

_ When love is real _

_ Like a flower  _

_ Loves a bee _

_ But I know you're meant _

_ To give yourself  _

_ To someone else _

_ Not me _

In his head, John’s giving himself to anyone willing to have him. Nick still loves him, yearns for him so much it aches.

To know him so deeply is to love him, and he never stopped, despite everything he did to set them apart. He can’t will himself to stop. It comes naturally.

_ And I could carry on with you _

_ Does that sound crazy? _

_ I think you feel the same way too _

_ And you can't face it _

_ The hardest thing _

_ Is to let go _

In his head, Nick dreams of his return. They fall into each other’s arms again, like they did when they were young. They cry and apologize. The damage is healed.

But it’s not that easy. It will never be easy. He can’t let go.

_ But it's not defeat _

_ When you set somebody free _

_ And I know you're meant _

_ To be yourself _

_ With someone else _

_ Not me _

Nick stares at the ceiling, hands trembling. He could call Simon or Warren, talk it out. Maybe it would help.

Maybe he would just cry, sob until the morning light leaks through the window. Maybe he should stop thinking about John so much.

_ Can you let go? _

_ Cause that's love that's real _

_ Like a flower loves a bee _

_ And you know you're meant _

_ To give yourself  _

_ To someone else _

_ Not me _

He lets the ache simmer as the song fades, emotions raging within him. It feels like he’s sixteen again, feeling everything with such wild intensity. John is to blame. John has always been to blame.

Nick turns the volume down and leaves the song on repeat, drifting slowly. John haunts his waking thoughts and his unconscious ones, too.


	5. [4] hold back the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Onstage antics
> 
> John/Simon
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this actually happened! https://bemyicon.tumblr.com/post/188907754093/john-taylor-daily-imdancingonthevalentine
> 
> here’s my take on it.

_2016_

Simon smirks as he motions John over, beckoning him with two open palms. Lights flash around them as the crowd screams, eating anything they do right up. They have their audience wrapped around their talented fingers.

John, wearing a huge smile, comes closer. He continues the bass line, rocking with his instrument. Simon’s eyes are alive with something daring. He sings along with him, the motivating _Hold Back the Rain_ pouring from his lips, the microphone between them now.

Before he realizes it, Simon’s got a hand on his chest. He fingers the zipper of his red leather jacket for a long moment before tugging on it. His hand moves down and their eyes stay locked, the moment observed by their adoring fans. But it’s all their own; only they know what it means, what its true intentions are.

The fun continues off stage, little do they know. Or maybe they do know. John finds he doesn’t mind.

Simon’s hand lingers so delightfully, though he has stopped pulling the zipper. Any lower and John reckons he’d pounce on the singer right then and there. Payback for getting him riled up can wait, at least until the show is over and they’re backstage.

_Later_ , he mouthes as Simon drops his hand. He smiles and he backs away, knowing very well what will occur between them later tonight. He’s giddy just thinking about it, the prospect of wandering hands and lips in places they wouldn’t dare go in public.

Returning to his side of the stage, John grooves along to the rest of the song. His jacket is still unzipped. Simon is gonna get it later, and something tells him he won’t mind at all, that he teased him on purpose. He sure knows how to get his way. He always has when it comes to John.

They make eye contact from across the stage, all knowing. John is glad he has his bass to cover him from the little problem Simon has caused.

And the fun will continue.


	6. [5] plans for...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: Nigel becoming John
> 
> John/Nick
> 
> Rating: M

_1979_

Nigel pushes Nick down so he’s on his back in his bed, sheets rumpled around him . His dark eyes give away just what he wants from him, and Nigel can’t deny that he wants it too. So badly.

Without words, he goes right for Nick’s trousers, skilled hands unbuttoning and pulling at them. It’s then that he reaches out and grabs him for a kiss, desperate for the sweet blend of affection and lust. Like cream in coffee, it swirls; hypnotizing in a way.

Leaning down, Nigel gives him that affection. Their lips seek out each other, nipping and tasting. Nick’s eagerness is something Nigel has always adored about him. He does not hold back, he wants what he craves and he gets it, one way or another.

But even so, he is never pushy, his every move thoughtful and with a flair of delicacy. A perfectionist, an artist, he’s serious yet there’s a sense of humor underneath it all. He uncovers that part of himself during times like this.

Nigel takes his hardness into his hand and runs his hand along it, teasing lightly. He doesn’t miss the whimper that slips out of Nick’s mouth as he touches him, beginning to pump.

Kisses grow sloppy, some even missing his lips. It’s the thought that counts. His young face is caressed by his lips, worshipped like he deserves. The subtle sweetness sends Nigel reeling.

“I’ll suck you off, if you’d like,” Nick manages to utter to him. He gives back, they take turns; it’s their balancing act, reciprocation at its finest.

Nigel nods, nearly moaning at the promise of those perfect lips stretched around him. “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want.” Nick’s sultry tone does things to him, just as the heavy touch of his hand brings him closer to his orgasm.

With that, Nigel squeezes him just the right way, and Nick releases into his hand. “Fuck, Nigel,” he sighs out in pleasure, mind slipping completely.

He looks to him and catches him grinning to himself. He lets go and pulls away, waiting, giving Nick a chance to even out his breath. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Nick raises a brow. A question is on the tip of his tongue.

“Call me John,” he says. “The next time you moan my name, I want you to call me John.”

“Well...” Nick gives him an inquisitive glance. “I can’t moan your name with a mouthful of—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you going again after that. It’s easy, isn’t it?”

“Ah, who are you and what have you done with my Nigel?” he giggles.

“Would you like to find out?”

“I would love to, _John_.”


	7. [6] glass splinters lie so deep in your mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: Rio era
> 
> Simon/Nick
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had _The Chauffeur _on repeat while writing this, of course. strange but i love how it turned out!__
> 
> a day early, because why not?

_1982_

_He knows he’s dreaming when his limbs feel heavy, trying to move them. It just feels like wading through high water, swimming through air, but he’s not getting anywhere. It takes him a few moments to realize he’s driving a sleek black taxi. Hands upon the wheel, he can feel the heat of the engine, how it drones._

_It’s dark. The sky is starless, and no moon is present in the big black abyss above. Headlights offer little light within the vehicle. Shadows crawl and shift, dancing a tango of fright behind his lids. He knows he’s not alone; he can feel them smiling. He’s afraid to find out who._

_Looking away from the road, he is met with the silhouette of a familiar presence. He can feel the heat rise, mercury climbing to new heights. He’s soaked in his own sweat, stuck to the leather seat. He feels bound to it. He couldn’t move if he tried._

_The silhouette takes a hand and places it on his knee. It travels up his thigh dangerously, creeping. He’s not afraid. If anything, he welcomes this touch. It feels so real, that hand a sweet memory his mind decided to throw into the mix of an otherwise nonsensical dream sequence._

_Eyes back on the road, a black sun explodes and shatters. Seagulls fly in the distance and the black sky turns pink. He can feel the sharp pain of glass piercing his skin, yet there is no damage when he looks at his body. A black suit clutches his frame, and the hand still hasn’t moved._

_He watches it, studies it. How the skin looks under the pink glow, the contours of the veins and bones. An energy overwhelms his senses, a heat he cannot ignore or place. Their heartbeat throbs in time with the engine, an insane pounding, a headache misplaced._

_His eyes meet a pretty young face. But it’s no girl he knows, not even a girl. Red hair styled, matching red lips; he’s cloaked in... a dress? Black lace adorns his rail thin frame, showing off skin in the heat of his dream. He doesn’t move his hand. He smiles, cherry red lips extenuating pearly white teeth._

_Aphids swarm as the car approaches a haze, pink sky fading to purple slowly. The taxi seems to drive itself and the road ahead seems to sparkle. He takes his hands off the wheel, arms heavy. He sets a hand on top of the hand on his thigh and it disappears. His heart breaks a little._

_“Simon, pay attention.”_

_“The road...”_

_“Simon, Simon!”_

_He looks back at the road like he’s told. There’s crowds of people forming down the lane ahead, hardly visible through all the haze. The sky has since faded to blue, a beautiful summer scene transforming before his eyes. But when he tries to stop, foot slamming on the brakes, the taxi does not stop. The people are transparent and he feels his hand being grabbed._

_“Who are you?” he asks lamely. He already knows, but he’s looking for any answers he can get here._

_He seems to know everything, his dress-clad band mate next to him. He purses his red lips and flutters his lids, lashes delicate yet beautiful. “Your lover, your blue, your silver.”_

_“What? Nick...”_

_“Eyes on the road!”_

_“I’m not driving!”_

_The sky erupts in color, blue mixing with pink and purple. Sun saturated, it leaks more color into the sky, then seems to die. They’re left in the inky blackness of night once more and he still cannot stop the vehicle. Nick has resorted to climbing atop him, completely obstructing his view of the now dull and dreary road._

_Simon can’t move underneath his weight, not that he could before. They are cramped, hardly fitting like this inside the taxi. Nick doesn’t seem to mind. The sound of glass shattering is so loud he cannot think. They’re going to wreck, if they haven’t already._

_Steering wheel digging into his back, Nick slides perfectly into his lap, legs spilt, thighs glistening. He looks down and starts to pull up the black lace, showcasing more of his sweat sheen skin. Simon would crack the window, but he still cannot move._

_Nick stops toying with his dress and collapses forward, hands all over Simon’s chest. He tears at the suit, as if to cool him down, but it only makes him hotter. The engine continues to groan and throb, a sputtering sound joining the shattering glass shards._

_He feels a burning mouth on his, the last sensation before he wakes._

Simon sits up in bed, heartbeat pounding against his rib cage. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, tasting faintly of cherry.


	8. [7] bubblegum pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 7: Nick and makeup
> 
> Roger/Nick
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the world needs more of these two!

_1985_

“Would you hold still? I’m going to mess this up if you don’t stop moving.”

“It feels weird though!”

“Try not to think about it.” Nick tightens his grip on Roger’s face, soft fingertips applying more pressure. “It’ll be over sooner if you cooperate with me.”

Roger makes a small noise at the back of his throat. Nick’s got an eyeliner pencil practically in his eye, his wrist resting on his face. He doesn’t know how he stands doing this everyday. It’s not comfortable or fun.

He’s forced to watch Nick’s darkly made up eyes on his, the contact comforting yet unsettling at the same time. He feels a bit hot under the collar just looking at him. All the black looks great on him, his already attractive face extenuated by smoky eyes and bubblegum pink lips. 

What he wouldn’t give to take those lips between his, make a mess of that perfect lipstick. He’d push him up against the wall, let his hands roam wherever Nick wanted. He’d make those eyes flutter shut in ecstasy...

Where did _that_ come from?

Roger stops his mind from wandering and returns to the moment. Embarrassment floods his veins. He’s praying Nick hasn’t noticed. It isn’t long before he’s pulling away finally, stepping back to view his handiwork.

“How do I look?” Roger studies his face, thrilling as he draws back in again.

“Great, it needs some blending though. Come here.”

Roger doesn’t know how much closer he can get. He follows his order promptly, face even closer to his than before. If he really wanted to, he could plant a kiss right on his lips in one swift movement. Though he’s never been that daring, the mere thought is enticing.

Nick reaches out, beginning to smudge the liner with his finger. He cups Roger’s face with his free hand. He leans into his touch without a second thought, unable to help himself. His brain goes haywire when Nick’s hands are on him.

He starts to work on his other eye, and Roger fears for the moment when he pulls away. Wanting him so badly, the sensation fills his body, not letting up at all. Roger has never been the one to initiate, but as the seconds tick by, the desire does not wane.

“Nick?” his voice comes out small, a whisper dropping from his lips. It’s a whimper, almost, like he’s a hurt animal begging for help.

Nick peers into his eyes. “What’s the matter?” he says, his soft, comforting voice caressing his mind.

Roger exhales, breath hitching as it leaves him. He rejoices when Nick leans in slightly. He’s still got two hands on his face, and there’s this wistful look in his green eyes that Roger cannot bare.

“I, uh...” he trails off, words failing him. He freezes up, caught up in Nick’s eyes again.

Luckily, Nick puts the pieces together. He closes the small distance between their lips. It takes Roger a moment to respond to his kiss, shocked even though he was anticipating it.

To his surprise, it’s also Nick who deepens it, parting his mouth enough to allow Roger in. He loosens up a bit and pulls the keyboardist in, tiny body slotting with his own perfectly.

He tastes the chalky taste of lipstick, the bubblegum hue smearing. His hands travel down, lower, grabbing at Nick’s hips. A little moan into his mouth tells him that he wants this just as much. Roger couldn’t be more delighted.

They part and he’s already missing his lips, hooked on his kiss from the start.

Nick’s eyes gleam with affection. “Was that what you wanted?”

Roger nods. “I messed up your lipstick, though. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’d let you do it again.”


	9. [8] jagged edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8: Cuddling after a show
> 
> Andy/Simon & mild Andy/John
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sing Blue Silver made me do it! that hug clip is so damn cute, i had to write about it.

_1983_

Emotion overwhelms Andy as they come off the stage, the final show of the tour over. There’s something about endings that softens him, his sharp edges smoothed out by tender feelings. His fingers ache but he’s too weary to really notice the pain.

He pulls his shirt over his head, the prickling of tears in his eyes. It takes a lot to make him cry. This hit him like a ton of bricks, emotions from nowhere, seemingly. But he knows why he feels this way.

Simon is just ahead of him, shirtless as well. In mere seconds, he’s taking him into his arms. Held close to his chest, Andy clings on tight, arms locked over his shoulders. He feels so small compared to Simon; dwarfed by him in regards to build and height.

He lets his tears flow without hesitation, feeling safe as Simon embraces him. His skin is hot where it meets his own, Andy notices. He never wants to let go. This feels too nice to think of it.

The moment is theirs and theirs alone until he feels another body close in. He knows it’s John before he even opens his mouth; he can feel the calluses on his fingertips brushing his arm. Simon rocks them all and pulls Andy closer, burying his face in his hair.

Andy has never felt so close to his band mates before. Maybe it’s the circumstance, maybe emotions, but he finds he would quite like to stay physically close to them like this.

So later on in the night, when John is sat next to him and he rests his head on his shoulder, so nonchalant, he doesn’t move away. He only smiles, sitting up higher and resting his on top of John’s. They’re comfortable together. They need each other.

His band is crucial to him. They melt away the ice within him, the cold fading, warming him up. They soften his jagged edges and soothe away any tormenting ache. Maybe he needs them more than he realizes.


	10. [9] messes in red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 9: Dyeing each other’s hair
> 
> John/Nick
> 
> Rating: T

_ 1982 _

“You’re getting it everywhere!” Nick exclaims, towels on the floor with blood red drips on them. “It looks like a bloody crime scene in here!”

John continues to work the rich dye into his hair, gloved hands covered in red. Nick would likely kill him if he missed a spot. He laughs. “That’s what the towels are for, love.”

“Oh don’t _love_ me,” Nick retorts, rolling his eyes. “Is it dripping down my neck? For fuck’s sake Nigel...”

It is in fact dripping down his neck. John can’t help but giggle. “Hold on, I’ll get you cleaned up.”

“You better.”

John peels the gloves off his hands, the plastic sticking to his skin as it turns inside out. He grabs a tissue and wipes any excess dye off his skin. It’s already staining, stark against his paleness, but he won’t tell him that. He’ll let him make that discovery later.

“There, all done. Now you can do me while you wait.” John places a hand on his bare shoulder, squeezing it.

Nick looks up at him, smirking. “Do you or do your hair?”

John blushes, a bit flustered, heat rising to his face at record speed. Nick tends to do that to him. “Both,” he replies, cheeky.

Standing up, Nick places a hand on his bare chest, spreading his fingers. He looks up at him under dark lashes. Just one glance is all it takes. John is curled around his finger.

John whines, “you absolute _minx_.”

Nick’s hand drags lower down his torso, proving John’s words correct. His skin is blazing hot beneath his fingertips. John leans down, seeking out his smug mouth. Joined at the lips, he is careful not to smear the dye in his hair, but it proves to be a difficult task. He’s always been clumsy. Messy, too.

Nipping at his bottom lip, Nick wraps his hands around his waist. Their difference in height has always added a bit of challenge to their union, though they enjoy themselves all the same. John lets his large hands roam. They ghost the nape of Nick’s neck, where the red dye has made its mark.

John gets carried away, as he often does. He reaches to card a hand through Nick’s hair, a reflex gone all wrong. He pulls it away and it brushes down Nick’s back as he does so. He’s a disaster covered in red hair dye.

“What the hell, John!” Nick sounds less mad this time, probably from the heated distraction their lips provided. “Alright, no more of that until we’re done.”

“Ugh, fine,” John whines again.

“I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He turns so John can see his back.

There’s a red hand print on his left shoulder blade. John tries to stifle a laugh, failing miserably. He reaches out and smears more down his back. It looks quite like an abstract art piece now.

“You’re my mess, Nick.”


	11. [10] you might feel good around me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 10: Getting jealous
> 
> Nick/Simon
> 
> Rating: E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized that i’ve hardly written any Big Thing era stuff? expect that to change, and soon!

_1989_

“Who do you belong to tonight, Charlie?” Nick straddles him, pushing him further until he’s spread out on his back. Using his wicked ways, he teases him. “Whose name will you be screaming?”

“You, Nick, just you,” Simon moans, unable to control himself. The keyboardist is grinding down on his cock with no mercy, taking all of him inside as he starts to sink.

Nick smirks, happy with himself. He always knows how to get him going, and vice versa. “That’s right.”

Maybe tonight’s little stint with John on stage was planned. Maybe Simon wanted this. Nick wouldn’t put it past him, and he doesn’t really mind. After all, it gives him an excuse to do this, not that he ever needed one in the first place though.

Simon’s hands drift to Nick’s thighs, pressing on his skin as he rides him. He feels so good around him, but he definitely wants his love. He wants whatever Nick is willing to give.

“You’re not allowed to come until you promise me,” Nick gasps, Simon buried deep inside him and hitting him in the right place. “That you’re mine. And mine only.”

Hands gripping Nick tighter wherever they can, Simon couldn’t be more turned on by his words. His voice is lower and deeper than normal, dominant personality shining through. With bleached blonde hair hanging in his eyes, and painted lips parted, he’s a picture of his every fantasy and more.

“I’m yours, Nick. I don’t want John, only _you_.”

Nick is pleased, inching towards his own orgasm. “Good boy,” he pants.

Simon staggers towards his release, Nick’s fingertips playing along his chest. He comes inside him with a groan.

He knows who he belongs to, but it doesn’t hurt to get Nick riled up every now and then, especially when it leads to such wonderful places.


	12. [11] by the light of the moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 11: Seven and the Ragged Tiger era
> 
> Roger/John
> 
> Rating: G

_ 1983 _

“So, how is my other half doing tonight?”

Roger’s heart drops. He looks at John from behind his drum kit. _Other half?_ He can’t be serious.

“Your, uh, what?” Roger asks, though he heard him clearly. He grips his sticks harder, hands already aching from recording.

John breaks into a smile. It’s like he knows something Roger doesn’t, and it’s killing him. “Other half. Of the rhythm section, you know?”

“Oh. Right.”

“That was a weird way of putting it, sorry. How are you feeling?”

_Feeling_. Roger is feeling a lot, spending so much of his time around John has taken its toll on him. He can’t exactly tell if it’s been good or bad; it depends on how John feels about him, which only makes the uneasy sensation in his gut grow.

Roger feels the tension in the room, a shadow on his side. It gets to him more than he’d admit. _John_ gets to him. He wishes Simon could be here to break the tension, bubbly and wild personality an easy distraction from mostly anything.

“I’m alright, a little tired— ” Roger cuts himself off, watching John set his bass down hurriedly. “John? Where are you going?”

He doesn’t reply. He only storms out of the studio, out into the warm Caribbean night air. Roger is left dumbfounded. John has always been a bit implausible, but this is strange, even for him.

He throws his sticks down and gets up from his kit. Drumming is the last thing on his mind now. He goes out the same door John went, hoping to find him nearby. He couldn’t have gone far.

Making his way outside from the back of the studio, he notices how the full moon lights up the sky. In the gentle ripples in the pool water, its light is carried along the surface. John is sat at the edge, rolling up his trousers as he slips his feet into the chlorinated water.

Roger treads forward, careful steps leading him to John. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, but it’s hard to find anything to say when he feels the way he does. This has been a long time coming. He stands behind him and watches the moonlight on the water, serene, unlike the state of his mind. It’s all a jumble.

“I’m sorry I said that, it was stupid.”

“John, can we just talk?”

John watches Roger sit down next to him, closer than usual. He slips his feet into the pool, feeling the tepid water rise just below his knees. There’s a gentle breeze blowing through their hair, like heaven on a summer night.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t promise I won’t say something you’ll hate me for.”

Roger shakes his head. “I could never hate you, John.”

“Why are you so nice to me? I make things awkward and you... you always forgive.” John turns to him, watching the expression on his face. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Because I like you. I always have, from day one,” Roger says, earnest. His heart is beating so fast he fears John can hear it, the rhythm calling to him, so he can sync up to it.

A grin graces John’s face, looking down at the water. He swings his legs, the feel of the water on his skin comforting. “Really? Glasses and all?”

“ _Nigel_. I thought you were cute.” Roger inhales sharply. “And I... I still do. Never really went away.”

“Fuck, Rog.”

Roger watches the hair that hangs down in John’s face, then his eyes move to his lips. They’re almost quivering, perhaps at a loss of words. He doesn’t know what to say either, after dropping that bomb. Everything around them is still as he waits for something to happen. Anything at all.

It’s just them and the moon tonight. Their rhythm is present even when no music is being played, somehow.

John leans forward, so close now. It could change everything between them. “I’ve felt the same. For a long time,” he says.

Instead of speaking, they let their actions say: _I’m sorry it took so long. God, why were we so blind? Why did it take so long?_

Lips meet for the first time, the moon their only witness. 


	13. [12] at your liberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12: Rare pairing
> 
> Nick/Warren
> 
> Rating: E

_1990_

Leather covered knees inching towards the studio floor, Nick’s pale hands run along Warren’s exposed skin on the way down. His sleeveless jacket is open, showing off his toned chest. The sound of a belt buckle and their heavy breaths is kept within the walls of the studio. It’s their own private escapade.

Warren revels in his touch, the luxurious feel of the contact exciting him even more. He peers down at Nick’s mop of blonde hair, how he flicks it out of his face as he pulls his tight black jeans down his legs. Mascara coating his long lashes, he flutters them, bright green eyes on show.

“So fucking gorgeous,” Warren utters through gritted teeth. Soft hands pull at his boxers and he groans, head hitting the wall behind him. “C’mon babe, wrap that pretty mouth around me.”

Nick takes his cock in hand, passing over his lips. He looks up at him, sweet and innocent expression on his face as he licks the head. He smirks, lips unturned. So sly. He knows what he does to the guitarist and he uses it to his advantage. It doesn’t take much to have him begging on his hands and knees, desperate for the heat of his touch.

Warren’s hands fly to Nick’s hair, blonde strands weaved in between his fingertips. “That’s it,” he encourages.

Nick starts to take more of him, Warren pushing further into the wet warmth of his mouth. He watches his lips stretch around him to accommodate his size. His hands grip his strong thighs, perfectly manicured nails digging into them. Warren keens, his mouth bringing him copious amounts of pleasure.

“Wanna bend you over and fuck you, make you scream loud enough for the guys to hear.”

Nick feels his own arousal building, leather constricting around his growing erection. Warren’s low voice warms him to his core. He thrusts into his mouth experimentally and Nick takes it. He feels him yank on his hair, hard enough to make him wince. He has always liked when he gets rough; it freshens things up.

Warren feels the pressure building down below, and the more he gazes at Nick, the closer he gets. “You’re so good, Nick,” he sighs, “so fucking _good_.”

Eyes watering, Nick drags his nails down the backs of his thighs, applying a bit more pressure this time. The leather clings to his legs, growing more and more uncomfortable. He’s not too worried about it; Warren will surely have him out of them, and soon.

“Gonna come.” Warren pulls his hair again, feeling the vibration of a moan at the back of his throat. It sends him over the edge, letting go.

Nick works to swallow every drop, so turned on he could cry. He needs Warren and he needs him now.

Pulling off his cock, Warren reaches out and grabs him by his black turtleneck. They’re face to face, eyes meeting. The keyboardist’s lips are sheen, parted as another moan slips out. He lets him devour his mouth, falling against him in utter desperation.

Warren slides his tongue into his mouth, tasting himself. It’s so dirty and so right. He can’t get enough.

“Need you.” Nick let’s Warren flip them, so he’s the one pressed against the wall now. “Now.”

Warren palms him through the restricting leather. He dives back in again, Nick’s lips magnetizing. “You got me, babe.”


	14. [13] duran pile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 13: Banter/Laughing together
> 
> Fab five (Gen with hints of slash)
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i. love. them. so much.

_1983_

“You’re gonna hurt your voice,” Andy chuckles, Simon slumped next to him on the sofa backstage. “Pipe down, for fuck’s sake.”

Simon inches closer, getting right in his face. He’s running purely off the post-show adrenaline, wound up and showing no signs of stopping anytime soon. “Make me.”

Roger makes his way in, pulling his shirt over his head. They both try not to stare as he comes toward them, but that proves to be easier said than done. “I can hear you out there, Charlie.” He smiles, plopping down beside him.

“Maybe I wanted you to, so you’d come join us.” Simon leans over and wraps an arm around him, enveloping him in half a sweaty embrace.

“You could benefit from a shower.”

Andy chimes in, “I second that.”

“Aw, come on,” Simon laughs. “Don’t you fancy a cuddle first?”

“Go cuddle John. Or Nick.”

Andy leans back on the back of the sofa to look at Roger. “Where are they, anyway?”

Simon moves away from Roger, giving him space to stretch out. “Johnny’s probably following him around, like a lost puppy.”

“He’s got the eyes even,” Andy adds.

They all laugh. Sure enough, moments later, Nick comes strolling in with none other than John in tow. 

“Called it.”

Andy rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Charlie!”

“What?” John asks, clueless.

“Come here, both of you. Rog and Andy won’t cuddle me.”

Nick’s lips quirk into an endearing half smile, gazing at his band mates before him. “You expect the five of us to fit?”

“Duran pile!” John exclaims before practically throwing himself at the other three, landing directly in Roger’s lap.

“ _Ow_ , Johnny!”

He wraps his arm around his shoulders, his long legs stretching across Simon and his feet resting on Andy’s thighs. “We’ll fit just fine. Nick?”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He inches towards them, Simon reaching out and grabbing him by the arm, drawing him in.

He climbs onto them gracefully, Andy emitting a sigh as he settles in Simon’s lap. The guitarist leans into the singer, accepting the notion that he won’t be getting off this sofa for quite some time.

“Much better,” Simon remarks, one arm snaking around Andy and the other holding Nick in place. They’re a tangle of limbs, an unorganized mess, but together all the same.

“Gonna shut your mouth now, Charlie?” Andy asks him, pressed hard against his shoulder. Simon’s always had a strong grip, a heavy, yet comforting, embrace.

Simon looks to Nick, eyeing him up. “Maybe.”

Nick cranes his neck to John. His lanky body is quite possibly the reason he’s so uncomfortable. “Get your knees out of my ass, Nigel.”

“Well, _maybe_ I could if you didn’t have to be sat in Charlie’s lap...”

“Blame him, not me!”

Roger leans in, resting his forehead on John’s shoulder, laughter taking over. Giddy, high from adrenaline, the five of them laugh together. The showers can wait a few more moments.


	15. [14] chrysalis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 14: Arcadia
> 
> Simon/Nick/Roger
> 
> Rating: E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting ahead, since work has been tough lately. i loved writing this one.

_1985_

A Paris thunderstorm rattles the window adjacent to the bed, curtains shielding the moody scene outside. Rain comes down in cascades, washing the streets and pounding on the roof above their heads. It sets the mood perfectly. It feels as though they’re in a chrysalis, transforming together as the weather outside rages on.

The room is kept mostly dark, save for a dimmed floor lamp; turned bright enough so they can see each other’s faces. There’s no makeup worn between the three of them, all stripped down and bare for the night.

Nick starts by undressing Roger, tentative and slow. He unbuttons his shirt, hands moving down his chest skillfully. It slides off his shoulders with grace and greets the floor. He works on his trousers next, sliding the zipper down as their eyes meet. He feels Simon behind him, a hand in his hair, drifting down to his neck and resting there.

Roger walks backwards till he meets the bed, Nick dragging his boxers down his thighs. He watches, breath heavy, as Simon works on Nick. He’s caring in his actions, preserving the beautiful pieces adorning his small frame. They too meet the floor with a softened thump, though the sound is barely audible due to the desperate pounding of the rain.

When he’s without clothes, Nick joins Roger atop the duvet. Simon strips as they admire every curve of his body, the way his lightly muscled back and arms shift as he shucks off his own gothic apparel. A flash of lightning cracks, casting an eerie glow on the room for a split second. But they know that inside, with each other, they are safe.

Simon joins them, sliding in next to Roger. Nick already has a hand pumping him, a gentle sigh passing through his parted lips. Simon leans in to press open mouthed kisses to his neck, urging him to stretch out, giving him better access. Nick lets his hardness go, in favor of fetching supplies from the bedside drawer.

Roger allows Simon to take control. He watches the silver earring dangling from his ear glint, even in the low light. Their eyes meet, their gaze a smoky mixture of heat and frost, of passion and trust. Nick returns, tossing lubricant and condoms across the bed. He presses himself flush against Roger’s body, half hard cock brushing against his side.

Movements smooth and steady, Simon pops open the cap of the lubricant and slicks up his fingers. His eyes are dark but his intentions are always good. Roger never doubts this, and so he spreads his legs for the singer, all feelings of unease long gone. This is nothing new; the comfort that has settled within him evidence of such. Simon takes good care of him and Nick—his heart sensitive, protective, loving.

He gasps at the sensation of his cold fingers pressing in, sending a sweet shiver up his spine. Nick’s mouth sucks on a piece of skin just below his ear, then trails lower. He leaves only slight reddened skin behind, saving night blooming bruises for another evening. This one is reserved for tenderness, for slow loving, absent of anything harsh.

Simon adds a finger and spreads them, one hand resting on the inside of his thigh. His skin is hot, the humidity in the room partly to blame. He goes deeper and Roger’s back arches off the bed. Simon begins to hum a tune. It’s sensual, like his honeyed vocals on the tracks they’ve been working on. He soothes both Roger and Nick, as the rain continues to pour just outside the window.

Another crack of lightning sounds, but it’s further away this time around. Roger notes how glossy Nick’s green eyes are, full to the brim with emotion. It’s beautiful to see him so vulnerable. All his walls are broken down for him and Simon.

When he’s ready, Simon slips his fingers out and rolls a condom down his length. Roger quivers beneath him, heart fluttering. He holds such love for the men with him. Their connection runs deep, deeper than the music, deeper than darkest night sky.

Nick has ceased to kiss him. Instead, he has grabbed the bottle of lubricant and is working himself open, a hand tucked behind him. He watches as Simon inches into Roger, hands resting on his muscular thighs. Roger relaxes, fully trusting him with his body. When he pushes in to the hilt, he wraps his legs around his hips.

Simon begins to thrust, letting go of his thighs. He places one hand beside Roger’s waist for stability and the other on Nick’s bony hip. He moans as he drags it down his thigh, fingers still buried inside himself. He keeps it there for a few moments, as if to remind him he won’t be forgotten. But he knows he is loved. He can feel it, it’s like electricity between them.

Hands above his head, Roger takes all Simon gives him. His bright blue eyes cradle oceans of emotion, their gaze locking again as lightning brightens up the room. The bluish hue of the night covers their bodies in dancing shadows, scattered light that is gone just as soon as it appears. There’s something romantic about it.

Racing towards his tiny death, Simon’s thrusts are deep, and Roger knows he won’t last much longer. Nick is not far behind. The tightness around him and the heat in the air sends Simon reeling, releasing into the condom with a cry.

He pulls out and Roger rolls over on his side, colliding with Nick. They’ve agreed to finish each other off tonight; it’s been a while since they have. Nick helps him out, his hands shaking as he opens another condom and rolls it down Roger’s weeping cock.

Roger stumbles as he tries to pin Nick down, earning a small giggle from him. Simon stays close as Roger pushes into Nick. He wouldn’t miss this for the world. He lets a hand play along his shoulder, then moves in to steal a kiss, Nick turning his head so their lips can meet.

Low grunts fill the room as the rain begins to let up. Roger grips Nick’s hips, noting how his luscious black hair is splayed across the pillowcase—it’s like abstract art.

Nick feels the heat building as he drives into him, the pace still quite slow. He feels his hips stuttering after a few moments. Simon takes the opportunity to stroke him in time with Roger’s thrusts, their release rapidly approaching now.

Roger comes first, his body clinging to him as he releases. Nick follows, spilling into Simon’s hand. The storm has passed; the night quieted down significantly. They have this time to enjoy together, to sink into both the comforting darkness of the early morning hours and the sheets they share.

They will emerge from their chrysalis come sunrise, but for now, they clean each other off, then let their lips soothe one another to sleep.


	16. [15] stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 15: Power Station
> 
> Andy/John
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i needed some softness with these two, turned out a little sad though. enjoy!

_1985_

“‘S alright Johnny, I’ve got you.”

Andy pulls his quivering body closer, never mind how much of a mess he is. Hot tears stream down his face, choking on sobs as they rip through him.

Strange to think they were shredding up on stage just a few hours ago. John was smiling, jumping around, never looking more alive and carefree. The comedown can be harsh on him at times; his mood swinging like a pendulum, but twice as fast.

This is the John Taylor the world doesn’t see.

Andy runs a hand up his back, letting it rise up to meet his hair. Though dirty and mussed, his fingers card through it anyway, chipped blue nails contrasting with his brown locks. His lips quirk, forming a sad smile as he takes in the sight of him. He hates to see him this way.

John slumps against him, wrapping both his arms around Andy’s midsection. “Stay with me tonight?” he manages, though words are difficult tonight.

Andy continues to stroke his hair. He wouldn’t think of leaving him in a state like this. “I’ll stay,” he replies softly.


	17. [16] silver suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 16: Dialogue only
> 
> Nick/Simon
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick in that Strange Behaviour tour video, the silver suit... 🤤

_1987_

“You looked great tonight, as always.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

“Better than great, I suppose. It’s the suit. It really hugs you in all the right places.”

“You’re insane.”

“Well...”

“Want me to turn around, give you a little show?”

“Fuck, Nick. Yes _please_.”

“Alright. You can look, but don’t touch.”

“How do you expect me not to when you look so goddamn beautiful?”

“You have to earn it, Charlie.”

“Tease.”

“And you love it.”

“That I do. I think the camera did as well.”

“God knows what you’d do with all _that_ footage of my ass.”

“I don’t need video when I’ve got you right here, in the flesh. Whenever I please.”

“That makes it sound like I’m your slave.”

“You can be if you want.”

“Charlie!”

“What?”

“I said no touching.”

“Come on babe, haven’t I earned it?”

“Maybe so.”

“Good. I don’t know if I can stand to just look anymore.”

“Make it quick, we haven’t got much time.”

“Is time too heavy to hold, Nick?”

“You’re ah— _insufferable_.”

“I don’t know, you seem to handle me just fine.”

“Stop all your bloody talking and—”

“Oh, I will.”

“Thank the suit for the best orgasm of your life.”

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”


	18. [17] muscle memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 17: Missing each other
> 
> John/Roger/Andy
> 
> Rating: M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about time i wrote a Taylor threesome. this is soft as heck!

_2003_

“I missed this, so fucking much,” sighs John, heart beating faster already.

“I know,” Roger chimes in. “I did too.”

“What are we waitin’ for then? C’mere, Johnny, Rog.”

John falls into Andy’s arms, rejoicing in the second part of their reunion. Roger follows quickly after, the three of them already shirtless. Standing between two double hotel beds (one will remain untouched tonight), they embrace.

The room is filled with loving energy, nothing at all sour between the three of them. It’s been almost twenty years since they last did this together; it’s been much too long. 

Just as they used to, they fall into the routine it became. Muscle memory is determined even after time passes, it seems. When they let go, John takes Roger’s face into his hands and leans down to kiss him, familiar lips meeting his own once more.

Instinct takes over. He pushes him down onto the bed, Andy at his back. They don’t know how, but at some point, the three of them collapse together on top of the duvet. In a fit of giggles, lips are shared: Andy and John, John and Roger, then Roger and Andy.

Then well aged hands start to drift lower. The years melt away like sugar cubes in piping hot tea. Breaths grow shallow and it’s suddenly 1983 again, they’re experimenting in secret and it’s the best time of their lives. Hit records, sold out shows, all the drink and any substance they could ever want, all at their disposal. 

Not to mention, they could have had any woman (or man) of their choice at their feet. But all they wanted was to be with each other, to learn each other’s bodies as well as their own. After a high energy show left them with the soaring feeling of adrenaline, they used it behind closed doors.

And now, rough touches and sweat soaked sheets behind, they are much gentler than before. The years have softened their edges, Andy’s included. He no longer yanks at John’s hair, no longer leaves fingerprint shaped bruises along Roger’s thighs. Instead, they kiss with intent, almost lovingly. It’s new, but it’s old; all the best parts of themselves to stay.

It takes them two rounds to satisfy each other. Touches on fire, though never burning, never destroying: they come undone together. Roger collapses onto John, Andy pulls his cock out of his mouth. They are overcome with a feeling so strong it cannot be ignored. It’s something new and something old, too. A lovely concoction of an emotion takes hold.

They pull each other close, enveloping their bodies in heavenly warmth. Embracing the new and the old, they spend some time remembering. Muscle memory helps them recall. Every movement is inspired by one set almost twenty years prior.

There is no need for missing, not anymore. What they have now is even better than before.


	19. [18] love level

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 18: The Crucial Three
> 
> Simon/Nick/John
> 
> Rating: E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen to Love Level by Blondie, it really fits with this one!

_1986_

An elbow resting on his shoulder causes him to look up. It’s John, smirking for the camera. Nick reverts his gaze to the lens, trying not to get distracted, though it’s easier said than done.

“You’re so small,” John pipes up, nudging Nick. “It’s adorable.”

Simon leans into his other side as the flash overwhelms their vision. A large hand on his other shoulder starts to move down his back. “He’s pocket sized.”

“Well, maybe if you two weren’t so bloody huge,” Nick says, rolling his eyes.

John and Simon share a look and burst into a fit of laughter.

“In more ways than one, right Charlie?” John poses again, knowing his own angles.

“That’s right,” Simon chuckles.

Nick, still sandwiched between them, has had enough. He knows just how to put an end to the teasing and the banter, at least until the shoot is over.

“You could break me in half,” he says, voice whisper quiet, though loud enough for the two of them to hear.

“We’ll make it up to you, Nick. _Later_ ,” Simon replies, face heating up at his words. He brings Nick closer, wanting to feel his delightful little body pressed against his own.

John groans, lowly at the back of his throat. Soon enough, the shoot is done. 

_The Crucial Three_ couldn’t be more happy.

———

Some crazy how, it’s their first time all meeting together in the bedroom. But it’s been a long time coming, for the difficult creation of their new album has brought them closer than ever before. Their union is tight. It’s a bond like no other. Unbreakable.

John and Simon may tower over Nick in terms of height, but they are all equals within the band. It’s an unspoken rule. The teasing is only such, a playful act between the three.

They all take care of each other, look out for each other. That carries over when they get each other into bed, and if anything, it is amplified to a new high.

John hovers over Nick, admiring the lust in his gaze, the wet glimmer of saliva on his lips. His eyes are lined with a soft touch of black eyeliner, enough to bring attention to them, but not to distract from the rest of his beauty.

He looks up at his band mates with sheer desire. Their eyes are warm, inviting; blue and brown meeting green. John dives down and kisses all down his chest, moving down to his stomach. He throws his head back in pleasure, feeling Simon settle down beside him.

It’s John who works him open, his long fingers slicked up, delving deeper than they have ever gone before. He goes slow, plays Nick like a prized bass guitar. The vibrations of his moans against his throat are quite similar to the instrument: deep and low, sending a jolt of pleasure right through him.

Simon curls himself around his small body, hardness brushing against the dip in his lower back. He cries out against John again, hands pressed flat to his chest. The sounds he’s making are turning both he and Simon on.

Nick feels Simon clutch his hips, the pads of his fingers less familiar on his naked body. But he could get used to it very easily, he knows. John has since removed his fingers, and it isn’t long before he feels Simon sinking in, filling him up slowly. The gradual drag is enough to put him over the edge.

Propped up on one elbow, he pushes in until he can go no further. John takes Nick’s member in hand and pumps him in time with each of Simon’s thrusts, rolling hips sending him forward into the bassist each time. Nick, blissed out, focuses on Simon’s uneven breath fanning against his neck.

John’s lips suck on his, taking the pink flesh between his teeth, but he doesn’t bite down. They both handle him gently, rocking him without too much pressure, loving him without any roughness. Maybe he’ll want to try that another time.

There surely will be another time.

Nick pushes back against Simon, his large frame dwarfing his own. He has never felt so small yet so cared for. John’s mouth covers his face in wet kisses, Simon following suit and pressing his lips to the back of his neck.

Just before his release, Simon’s mouth meets the shell of his ear. “I told you we’d make it up to you.”


	20. [19] could you sign this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19: Crazy fans
> 
> Nick/Simon
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had a lot of fun with this one haha!!

_ 1988 _

“She made you sign her— ”

“Yep, signed my first tit. Can you believe it took this long?”

“No, actually.” Nick can’t help but laugh. Warren looks way too proud of himself, all over some Sharpie on a breast. “Not even in Missing Persons?”

“Nope. Where’s Simon? I gotta tell him.”

Nick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he replies, getting up from his seat next to Warren.

They collide in the doorway, Nick running face first into his tanned chest.

“Ah, there’s your boyfriend!”

“He is not my boy—”

Simon throws an arm around him as they walk back into the room, shutting Nick up effectively. “Boyfriend, huh?”

“You’re the worst, Warren.”

Simon looks amused. “What’s gotten into you, then?”

“He signed some girl’s tit back there and he’s not going to let any of us forget. Ever.” Nick looks up at Simon, lips quirking into a grin. He’s still pressed into his side and he can feel Warren’s eyes on them.

“That’s right!” Warren throws his arms over the back of the sofa, leaning back. “So, when’d you two sign your first tits? Rum Runner days?”

“Yeah, something like that. Though I doubt that Nick here enjoyed it half as much as you did...”

Nick tries to push Simon away but his grip only gets tighter. He finds he doesn’t mind at all. “Shut your mouth, Charlie.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind signing mine.” Simon chuckles, flicking his hair out of his face. He puts on his best American accent. “ _Nick!_ Oh, Nick, could you sign my boob? Please, it would mean so much!”

Nick wants to be mad at him but he’s laughing too hard. He buries his face into his chest and lets the joy of the moment wash over him.

“ _Boyfriends_...”

Still holding him close, Simon can’t deny that. “Go find another tit to sign, Warren!”


	21. [20] waiting for the night boat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 20: Favorite music video
> 
> Fab five (Gen)
> 
> Rating: G

_1982_

Roger stands at the edge of the dock, watching the ghost ship travel further away from the island. The murky water ripples, throwing moonlight around on the surface. There’s sand in his shoes.

John’s scream replays in his mind, bloodcurdling; a shiver runs up his spine. It’s the sweetest chill. He pictures Nick, mussed in white, and Andy, slowly being overtaken.

Hands reached for him between the blinds, aching to devour him. He outsmarted them. He hid, he prayed. Alone now, he’s the only one left alive. The ghost ship carries Simon away, uttering lines of poetry to himself, perhaps for protection. Shakespeare won’t save him.

No one is safe now. A crab scuttles by his feet, broken glass litters the beach. He’s alone on the edge of the quay, the lone survivor in white. The coastal wind whips in his face.

You can always save yourself, but at what cost?


	22. [21] on the porcelain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 21: Big Thing era
> 
> Nick & John
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a dreary one, softness is coming!

_1988_

Nick gets an eyeful when he opens the door of the studio bathroom.

There’s white powder on the porcelain sink, being breathed in through half a pink plastic straw. On the other end of that straw is his best friend. Or maybe he’s only a mere shell of himself, the drugs washing away the person he has come to know and love over the years.

That realization hurts.

“John!”

He looks up at him, in a daze. Through bleary eyes, it’s like he doesn’t register what he’s doing. He’s just doing it. A reflex. A habit. _An addiction._ He’s lost in it, consumed by it.

Nick feels tears pricking his eyes. _Don’t cry, don’t cry. You’ll only make it worse on him and yourself._ He rushes to his side, tearing the straw out of his hand and pushing the rest of the coke into the sink, turning the water on and washing the tiny white crystals away.

“What the fuck, Nick?” John grabs his shoulder, rough but not inflicting any pain. “What’s your problem?”

“No, John. What’s _yours?_ ” Nick holds up the straw in his face, then backs away to toss it in the trash. “You’re destroying yourself.”

John shakes his head, movements jerky. “No, I’m not! I’m fine. I feel fuckin’ fantastic!”

Nick tries harder to hold back the tears, but they are determined. “I want you to look at yourself, John. Take a good look at yourself. Tell me... tell me what you see.”

He is reluctant, face stony as he turns to the mirror. In his reflection are clues to how he feels inside: skin and bone, sharp cheekbones even sharper than before. Bloodshot eyes have darkened skin beneath them, and it’s not from any sort of makeup this time. His hands shake and tremble. He’s uneasy, he’s sick. A wreck. _An addict._

“I don’t know how to stop. I can’t stop.”

“Let me get you help. You need it.” Nick runs a hand down his arm. It feels fragile, like he’d break underneath his jumper.

John shakes his head again. “No, Nick. Don’t you dare.”

“You’re going to end up d—”

“No!”

Nick sighs, ready to break. “Give me all you’ve got on you.”

John hesitates again. With an uneasy hand, he reaches in his pocket and retrieves a small plastic bag, holding a day’s worth of powdered heaven. Nick takes it from him and pockets it.

It won’t fix everything, but it’s a start.


	23. [22] fab four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 22: A hug from Simon
> 
> Simon/Roger
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all need a little Roger love during this trying time.

_2006_

After Andy’s second departure from Duran Duran, Simon felt the same effects he felt during the first spilt. Suddenly, he was transported back to 1986, twenty years prior. The band came to a grinding halt and work on the album felt so directionless without their guitarist.

History repeats itself, it seems. It was perfect in theory, but maybe it was never truly meant to be. It’s impossible to work with someone who refuses to cooperate, someone who’s clearly on his own plane of creative energy. It’s best to let him go, Simon reckons. He knows they need to do whatever it takes to save all they have left.

He knows it won’t be the same without him, but as he glances at Nick, John, and Roger, he is filled with a fire of determination. Things won’t be the same and maybe that’s okay. He still has his three best friends in the entire world, three people he couldn’t imagine making music without.

1986 also saw a Roger-less Duran for the first time since he joined the band. Simon can hardly bare thinking of that event repeating. It hurts to recall and it hurts to think that it could easily happen again. Anything could go wrong.

Roger comes into the booth as he’s getting ready to record some demo vocals on the tracks they have laid out. It’s almost as if his silent brooding thoughts beckoned him, drew him closer, like he’s trying to say _I’m here. I’m not going anywhere this time around._ Simon can only hope that’s the truth.

“Just thought I’d hang out in here with you. Nick’s driving John and I crazy,” he laughs.

Simon instantly feels better in his presence. “Goddamn perfectionist, that one.”

“That he is.”

Roger looks on, expression soft and never judgmental. That little worry still plagues Simon’s mind.

“Roger, can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t even look alarmed, that calm persona flowing through still. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

Simon takes his headphones off. “You’re not thinking about leaving again, are you? With Andy and everything, I’ve been a bit worried. And paranoid.”

Roger looks at him as if he has three heads. “No, not at all. I told you I’m in it for good this time. Won’t be easy to get rid of me now, Charlie.”

“Good. I wouldn’t think of it, Rog. We need you.” Simon wants to take him into his arms, squeeze him tight and never let go.

So he does.

Roger returns the embrace with just as much exuberance, holding onto Simon like his life depends on it. He’s warm and has always given the best hugs out of everyone in the band; something that hasn’t changed in all the years he was gone.

Though Andy is no longer part of Duran, the rest of the band’s broken pieces have been mended. They have healed and now they’re stronger together than ever, the four of them. Simon relaxes against him, sighing in relief. He doesn’t even notice that Roger is smiling until he starts to laugh against his chest.

“You can let go now, I promise I won’t try to leave,” he remarks, his laughter bright and cheery.

“What if I don’t want to let go?”

“Then we’ll never get this album done and you’ll have to deal with _more_ of Nick’s bitching.”

“Alright, alright.” He lets go, but he’ll be back for more later.


	24. [23] in another life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 23: Wedding Album era
> 
> Simon/Nick
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m starting to think there’s some truth to this one.

_ 1992 _

Old photos are scattered across Simon’s kitchen table, some in albums and some removed for further examination. Nick has brought over a few of his own albums; their photos getting mixed up as they search through, looking for the perfect photos to use for the new album cover.

It’s interesting to see how much they’ve changed over the years. Now in his thirties, the young boy in the photographs before him seems like another person to Simon entirely. He glances at Nick, just about to hit thirty, and he thinks of all the years that have passed. He looks great, still young and fresh faced, despite the recent stresses that have been running him down.

He’s always been so private, much of his personal life a kept secret. Simon is one of the lucky exceptions. He’s no stranger to that part of him. They have remained very close all through the spilt, through line up changes, marriages. A divorce now, too.

Simon admires the monochrome faces of their parents, young and smiling on their wedding days. It’s like stepping back in time, feeling a morsel of their joy. He smiles to himself as he picks up one of his own parents. It could be the perfect addition to the cover.

He is pulled from his thoughts, looking at Nick sat beside him. He catches his longing gaze directed at a photo of his parents, smashing cake in each other’s faces and beaming. There’s something sad in those green eyes.

Without him saying a word, Simon knows what’s on his mind. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to break out the albums. He curses himself for even suggesting it.

“Nick?” he tries, voice gentle. “Are you alright?”

He looks over, eyes glassy. _Oh no._ Simon doesn’t like when he cries.

“Yeah. It’s no big deal,” he says, except it’s obvious that he’s lying. He’s not very good at it and he never was.

Simon sets his photo down and scoots closer to him. After all these years of knowing him, he has learned that he likes to be touched when he’s upset. He reassures him, wrapping an arm around his slender shoulders.

It’s been a while since he’s held him. He forgot how small he really is, but he is reminded as soon as he melts into his side, body forming to his. He doesn’t put the picture down. He continues to stare at it, as if he concentrates hard enough, everything will be healed. Sadly, it doesn’t work like that.

Nick emits a deep sigh, then tosses the picture back onto the pile on the table, further mixing up their photos. They’ll have to sort through them later.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Simon asks, though it goes without saying.

“What do you think?”

Simon knows he shouldn’t have said that. He feels guilty almost, for being so happy with Yasmin. It’s strange. He wishes he could give him what he deserves. He’s been thinking about it for years, what it would be like to love him that way. It was never anything incredibly serious, just pondering, just a what if.

But lately, it’s been cropping up more than ever. He would never act on it, would never do his wife wrong like that. Still, it’s nothing new. The possibility of them has always been there. In the background, it has lingered; an unspoken truth between them.

Simon wouldn’t dare bring it up right now. It’s not the time nor the place. He enjoys Nick’s closeness, rubbing his shoulder as he tries to compose himself.

“I’m... I’m going to tell you something and it’s going to sound really weird.”

Simon doesn’t know what to expect. Nick still continues to surprise him, even after so many years of friendship. “Go on.”

“Given the chance, I’d marry you. You’re the only person I’ve found in my life who has made an effort to understand me. You just... get me.” Nick feels Simon’s hand stop, settling on his arm.

Simon stops breathing for a moment. Maybe his thoughts weren't so crazy after all. This is crazier, the reality he’s been thrown into. What can he say after Nick dropped _that_ bomb?

“Well, I don’t think Yasmin would approve,” Simon starts, stuttering over his words. “But yeah, I would. If things were different.”

Nick laughs softly. “You must think I’m out of my mind.”

“It’s not so crazy when you think about it.” Simon brings him closer, their embrace tightening.

“Maybe we were lovers in another life,” Nick says, nonchalant. “Ugh, ignore me, it’s the divorce talking,” he adds.

“It’s alright, I get it, Nick.” Simon kisses the top of his head, like he has done many times before. This time, it feels different. “Maybe we were.”


	25. [24] “accident”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 24: Accidental kiss
> 
> Andy/Nick
> 
> Rating: G

_ 1981 _

“Tilt your head, Andy! You’re hardly in the damn frame,” John tells from behind the camera. Well, Nick’s camera.

He is currently holding his breath, watching his best friend handle his new equipment. He and Andy are the subjects for a few photos and it’s been hard to get John to cooperate.

“Maybe if the lens wasn’t in my bloody face,” the guitarist remarks. Nick is already incredibly close, pressed into his side to make a pretty picture. He doesn’t quite hate it.

Andy has never been one for pictures and posing. He prefers candids himself, but this is right up Nick’s alley. He makes it easier on everyone and follows John’s orders, moving his head. His and Nick’s are touching now. It’s a little windy, making it hard to focus. There’s so much hair between the two of them.

John takes a couple, the distinct snapping sound lost to the wind. Nick flicks his hair out of his face, and at the same time, Andy turns his head. Their noses bump and their lips brush.

His first thought: _what the fuck?_ His second thought: _holy fuck._

Nick’s lips are soft. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s seeking out those lips, smushing them against his own. Nick lets out a little squeak of surprise, and the kiss is over as soon as it starts, but Andy finds he wants more.

“I, uh, got that.” John is standing there, sheepish. He starts to laugh. “That was—”

“An accident?” Nick raises a brow at him. He’s adorable and Andy can’t stop staring.

Andy wants to disappear. He also wants to kiss Nick again. _Fuck._ “Yeah, an accident.”

Safe to say Nick’s not thinking about his camera anymore.


	26. [25] happy tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25: Hurt/Comfort
> 
> John/Roger
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roger in Sing Blue Silver. i’m having a moment.

_1984_

“Rog, hey. Are you alright?” John notices the tears streaming down his face, even in the dark limousine.

Roger nods, wiping the hot tears away. The camera gets turned off for the time being. “Happy tears,” he utters, looking over at the bassist.

“Aww.” John moves closer, their thighs pressed together on the seat. He reaches over, trying to find his hand in the dark. They pass an illuminated street lamp and he clutches it, their fingers interweaving together.

Roger grins, feeling John squeeze his hand. The calluses and blisters on their hands are similar, indicating their dedication to this dream they’ve built together. There’s a fluttery feeling between them; far more emotion than simple post-show adrenaline would bring.

As they pass another street lamp, Roger catches a tear streaming down John’s face. He leans in, kissing it away.

“Happy tears,” John whispers to him.


	27. [26] remember rio and get down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 26: Fab five reuniting
> 
> Nick/John/Simon/Roger/Andy
> 
> Rating: T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from On Top by The Killers. the last chapter of this challenge will tie in with this chapter!

_2001_

It’s just the five of them, a night in together. There’s no alcohol in sight. Everyone is stone cold sober. Nick could do with a little champagne, though. He’ll digress for John’s sake. He’s sat next to him, he’s looking content as he chats with Andy across from him.

Roger and Simon converse in the loveseat adjacent, Andy squeezed in next to their singer. Nick has quieted down now, taking it all in. So many feelings have been brought on by this reunion, some new, some old.

Though it took time for them to heal, he and John quickly fell into step again. The years of separation, years of pain and loss have come to an end. Not just for Nick and John, but for Simon, Andy, and Roger too.

He catches Simon’s glance and they both smile. They got their Taylors back, all three of them. When all seemed to be shrouded in endless doom, quickly falling to pieces, everything turned around just as fast. All it took was a few overdue phone calls.

They’ve discussed mostly everything that has needed to be mentioned, with the exception of one thing. It has been on Nick’s mind, a ghost of their past, and maybe it’s not even worth bringing up. Surely they’ve moved past it in twenty years, right? They’re not so young anymore, their adventures of yesterday further away now.

1982 feels like a lifetime ago and yesterday at the same time.

A bout of silence washes over them. Nick’s head screams Rio. Antigua, Sri Lanka, sparkling waves and wispy sand. Warm days and hotter nights.

_Hands underneath thin sheets, the sounds of the ocean distant as one of his band mates sinks into him. Needy fingers grip his hips as he fills him with his hardness. Another two rock the bed as they collide. One lies in the middle, sharing, mingling between moving bodies, white hot pleasure everywhere._

Twenty years did not erase the memory. Another twenty won’t either.

_They’d change hands, a new lover every night, sometimes more if they were feeling up to it. A Duran carousel. But they were always familiar, always delighted to be sharing something together. It warmed to a scorching intensity, near and dear, burning them out._

By 1983, it was over. Still, the tension bled through into the music until the splinters started to sharpen, digging into their skin. Piercing and scarring, leaving marks, passionate and dangerous.

_Such a bittersweet ending, it was._

“What’re you thinkin’ about, Nick?” He is caught by Andy, his senses fine tuned to his shift in emotion.

Nick tries to hide it, looking down at his hands. It’s no use. They know him too well, they can see past his front. “1982,” he utters the truth, watching their reactions, facial expressions a dead giveaway.

Roger, their shy, sweet Roger, blushes madly. They all know just how sweet he can be, just how dirty he can be, too. His exterior lets onto that secret side of him, sometimes shining through in a dark flash of his eyes.

Simon looks intrigued, no surprise. He sends John a devilish smirk, which is returned right back at him. Andy looks a bit shocked, perhaps he had temporarily forgotten their past endeavors, buried deep in the caverns of his mind.

“Oh,” Andy sighs, the beginning of a laugh. “ _Fuck_.”

“You asked,” Simon says, then nudges him. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“I can’t see the Rio video without thinking about it,” John admits.

“We were so young and stupid,” Roger adds, suddenly interested in his hands.

Nick eases back into the conversation, breath stolen away for a brief moment. “And beautiful.”

John reaches out, hand invading Nick’s personal space to hook a finger underneath his chin. “And you look very much the same, might I add,” he says, smile evident in his voice.

“I tell him the same thing and he doesn’t want to believe it.” Simon gestures to Nick, John letting go of his face.

Andy looks around at the other four. “You all look great, time did you good.”

Another bout of silence. They’re all holding their breath, tiptoeing around the events of 1982. Things have changed between them and some things are very much the same. The attraction is still there, maybe not as strong, but a glimmer beneath their skin. A pinprick of emotion begging for attention.

“I’m sorry I brought it up. It’s the past, no sense in—”

He stops, John has a hand on his knee. “No, it’s okay. We need to talk about it.”

“Would...” Roger trails off, earning the attention of his band mates. “Never mind, it’s not a good idea.”

“No, it’s fine. Finish your thought, Rog.” Simon sounds serious, his tone changing.

Nick watches it unfold, John’s hand trailing up his thigh. He doesn’t push him away. He doesn’t want it to stop.

“What if we did it one last time? Get it out of our systems so we can move on?”

Roger’s words hang in the air for a moment.

Nick can hardly believe this. “It’s all of us or it doesn’t happen at all,” he says, noticing the way Simon is eyeing his lips.

“I’m down,” Andy says without hesitation, surprising them all.

John is next. “Me too.” He takes his hand off Nick’s thigh, growing overwhelmed.

Simon is smirking, so much that the others know his stance on the whole thing before he even opens his mouth. “I’m in.”

Andy looks to Nick, then John. “Woah, this is happening, huh?”

Wandering eyes wander further.

Nick nods. “Appears to be.”


	28. [27] watching you watch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 27: In the studio
> 
> Andy & Roger
> 
> Rating: G

_1981_

“You’re going to sit there and watch me drum for ten minutes?”

“Why not? ‘S not like I’ve got anything better to do right now.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what, Rog?”

“That. You’ll make me mess up and then we’ll have to redo the take over and over again.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, pretend I’m not here.”

“You’re loud even when you’re not talking, but sure. I’ll try.”

“Was that an insult?”

“I would never.”

“Alright, start banging on your drums. Wanna see a real _show_. Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me!”

“I’ll give you a show, Andy. I’ll give you a _show_.”


	29. [28] hold out hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 28: Present day Duran
> 
> John & Dom
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little Dom appreciation, i wanted to work him in sooner than this. better late than never!

_2020_

Dom is relieved when his phone starts to ring, John’s name popping up on his screen. He knows he’s been okay for well over a week now, but it seems that nothing can truly soothe the stress and anxiety the virus has brought on.

He picks up the vibrating phone and answers, joyous. “Hey, John.”

“Dom! How’s it going?!”

It’s great to hear him sounding like himself, so happy and positive. They talk of what they’ve been up to, how they keep themselves from going insane while stuck in the house all day. John’s been sat at the piano, staying musical of course, with Gela by his side.

Dom tells him he’s been breaking out the acoustics recently, a softer sound for the house during this trying time. The topic of all their cancelled shows comes up, dampening the mood slightly.

“Might be a long time before we can play live again. God, I miss it so much already.” He hears John sigh.

“I’m holding out hope. Maybe it’ll be sooner than we think.”

“I hope so.”

“I can’t wait to play again. My favorite place to be is on stage with you guys.”

“Mine too, Dom. Mine too.”

They know this will pass, eventually, and they’ll be ready to come back stronger than ever before. Until then, all they can do is hold out hope.


	30. [29] roger shrine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 29: Reminiscing together
> 
> Simon/Nick + Roger
> 
> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #appreciateRogerTaylor2020

_ 2017 _

“Oh god, look at my hair, Charlie. What even was that?”

Simon looks at where Nick’s finger is pointing on the page before him. The blonde mop on his head had taken the form of a mushroom, puffy and in his eyes. He smiles, directing his eyes along the rest of the photo.

“Look at me, a moody pirate.” He nudges Nick’s arm with his elbow. “And John can’t even see beyond his hair. Contacts won’t fix that.”

They laugh together, continuing to page through the aged scrapbook given to them by an adoring fan. There’s photos and articles of the five of them, early reviews of their album and singles, and of course, pin ups. So many pin ups.

“Looks like somebody had a favorite,” Nick remarks, hand over a tasteful collage of Roger’s young face.

“Can you blame her though?” Simon points to a close up, dark lined eyes playing it up for the camera, probably around 1983. “You ever notice that Roger never had a bad hair phase? Here’s the four of us looking quite awful and then there’s him, always perfect.”

Nick leans in, cheek on Simon’s shoulder. “You never looked _that_ bad.”

Simon turns the page, more photos of their beloved drummer staring back at him. The page is filled with Arcadia era Roger, the two of them clipped out of the pictures. “She cropped us out, Nick! Can you believe?”

“Turn the page,” Nick says, reaching across the yellowing scrapbook and brushing Simon’s hand in the process.

The next page reveals the rest of the clipped photos, as well as some that Roger wasn’t present for to begin with. It’s an intricate spread of the two of them looking like a goth couple on their wedding day, complete with beady eyes, formal suits, and dozens of red roses.

“Who let us out of the studio looking like this? I look like a cheap whore.”

Simon shakes his head. “I always thought you looked beautiful in these. This one especially.” He points to one of Nick pressed into his side, Simon’s arm around him, staring him in the face with his hands tucked against his cheek.

Nick smiles, relaxing further. He never wants to get up from this position, he’s too comfortable. “I know why you like _that_ one.”

Roger paces into the room then, just in time.

Simon’s head shoots up. “Get over here, Rog. We’ve got something to show you!”

The drummer eyes them, cuddled up together on the sofa. “That’s never a good thing.”

“Rog shrine!” he exclaims, earning a groan from Nick. “Oh look, another page, full of Roger.”

Roger plops down next to Simon. “Alright. let’s see these pictures...”


	31. [30] we’re on top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 30: Your choice
> 
> Nick/John/Simon/Roger/Andy
> 
> Rating: E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who supported and/or participated in this challenge! it’s been such a fun ride and i’m really happy with what i’ve written. enjoy.
> 
> title from On Top by The Killers again, it fits this narrative so i recommend it!

_2001_

It feels strange for the five of them to be in the bedroom together again after so many years. They never dreamt a reunion possible, let alone a reunion of this kind. 

It’s a bit like 1982. Though this time around, it’s much less frantic. The kisses are tentative and careful. It’s almost overwhelming, five different pairs of lips meeting again after such a long time apart.

No one gets left behind. They take their time savoring each other, pairing up and passing one another between the other members. Simon licks into John’s mouth, parting with a wet sound before Roger takes over, cradling him as they reunite.

Meanwhile, Andy has taken a liking to Nick, hands cupping his ass as their lips move in synch. They eventually separate to accommodate John, Nick grabbing him and pulling him in for the first time in many years. As their lips meet, they both remember how it felt to do this for the first time, the sweet feeling a glimmer beneath their skin. They have not forgotten. How could they?

John drifts to Andy next, their closeness reminding them of their wild Power Station days. They’ve always been rough with each other, just their nature really, but tonight is different. Andy pulls John down by bunching a small hand in his shirt. He tugs, never yanking, and their kiss sets the pace for the rest of the night. John is smiling as his tongue flicks across his bottom lip. He lets him in. He lets him back in, for good, he’s hoping.

Roger and Nick share a moment, Simon’s hands on both of them. Roger is cupping the keyboardist’s face, tender kiss gracing his lips. When they cannot bare the intense burning sensation in their lungs any longer, Roger lets Simon pull him in. They meet with a chuckle against their mouths, stealing a breath of air before diving in.

Simon’s still got a hand on Nick, pulling him in as he kisses Roger. He doesn’t need help being drawn in, but Simon guides him anyway, into his much larger frame. Soon enough, Roger is pulled away by Andy and John, completing a set of Taylors on the other side of the bed where they stand.

Hand falling down to his waist, Simon brings Nick’s mouth to his. There’s something unspoken between them, something warm and adoring. They know without their close bond staying intact, there would not have been a band for the others to return to. It wasn’t easy, the past couple albums, _Medazzaland_ and _Pop Trash_ alike.

Their worst years are over now. It’s time to start new, start again.

When they part, Nick presses his lips along Simon’s exposed neck, unbuttoning his shirt to access more of him. Glancing over, the Taylors are undressing each other, guiding clothes off their bodies. There is no rushing, no force in their movements. Only the soft murmur of voices and the whisper of clothes falling in a rumple on the floor can be heard within the four walls that encase them.

It isn’t long before there’s miles of bare, pale skin between the five of them. There is no shame, no embarrassment, just like back in 1982. They have aged but have quickly grown comfortable with it. Their youth lives from within, it comes to life during moments like this, when they lose themselves in the moment. All they need is _now_.

The music brings them together, connects and unites them. This is something quite similar to the creation of the music, there’s rhyme and reason, sense even in the nonsensical. There’s love in every movement. There was then, and it’s only more prominent now, years after those humid nights together. The memory has clung like a beautiful perfume, just as strong as the day it was created.

Emotions on high, Nick and Simon follow the other three. The king sized bed definitely was not made for five grown men, but they will take their chances anyway. Like magic, there’s lube and condoms tossed onto the top of the duvet. Nick lets Simon lay him down next to Roger, John hovering over him and taking the drummer’s cock into his mouth.

Simon accommodates Andy, who seems to claim Nick as his for the time being. He moves behind Nick and Roger, stretching out and letting them get on with it. Of course, the keyboardist is having none of it, reaching back for his hand as if to say _please come closer._ He listens to his silent pleas, always.

The room seems to heat up as they progress. Fingers play upon already warmskin, slicked up and moving inside each other. 1982 cracks and fizzes in their minds, the catchy melodies of _Rio_ flying in the air around their heads. They lived in that world for so long, it felt like it would last forever. Maybe it wasn’t meant to, but they never forgot. They could never forget, even if they wanted to.

Calluses match up, pressing together, remembering very well the last time this occurred. It was a warm frenzy, a little pain mixed with the pleasure. It was an ending before the real ending even began. The _ragged tiger_ was on the rise, ready to pounce. They knew they were doomed, but they kept running. They never looked back.

But that was then, and this is now. 2001 does not have the same feeling; it’s more laid back, not so stressful and not as tiring. This is their rebirth, every gentle touch in honor of touches far less gentle in years before. This is now.

It’s so good to see Andy and Nick getting along, though they’re doing much more than just getting along. Simon runs his fingers through his hair, soft and classic blonde, as Andy fingers him open. He sighs with every caress.

John works on Roger, their reunion every bit emotional and meaningful. Simon knows how torn up John was at his departure; it wrecked him for a long time. He was lost without the other half of his rhythm section. Seeing them together again warms his heart.

Nick changes position, rolling over onto his stomach. Andy is already pushing into him from behind, condom wrapper tossed to the floor, joining their discarded clothes. Nick pushes right back, clutching the singer’s hand and bringing him along. When he gets closer, he takes his cock into his hand and pumps him in time with Andy’s deep thrusts.

Roger and John are closer now, the latter member being pushed down into the mattress. Roger sinks down on his cock, hands on John’s chest. He eyes his tattoos, on full show now that he’s stripped down completely. He can’t wait to fully appreciate them later, cuddled up in bed with fingerprints littering his skin that he doesn’t want to wash off.

The room is filled with heavy breaths and the sound of the bed creaking under their weight. Andy grips Nick’s hips as he drives into him. Two strong personalities, they tend to clash, especially in the studio. This will help to smooth out the bumps in the road, bettering their relationship for the long haul.

Nick meets him with each thrust, rocking back. He continues to pump Simon, green eyes looking up at him as his skilled hand edges him toward his orgasm. He then looks to John, big hands on Roger’s muscular thighs as he rides him. They’re quite an enticing sight.

There may not be the crashing of waves in the distance, or the humidity of a tropical night, but they can still hear it, still feel it. They’re not so young anymore, their forties hitting them out of the blue. They’re older and wiser, ready to do things right this time around. Maybe it won’t be perfect. Maybe it will still take some time. They’re willing to heal, to work on their differences for the sake of the band.

They come undone together for the first time in nearly twenty years, their pleasure a sweet little secret between the five of them. Maybe it won’t be the last time. Revisiting something so special between has only made them want to wallow in it more, to feel one together like they used to. Maybe it doesn’t have to end.

As their breathing slows to its normal pace, they curl up together. Luckily, the bed is big enough for the five of them. Sweat slick skin meets as they tangle together, lazy kisses shared between them.

Ideas are born this way.


End file.
